


Cut It Off

by impudent_strumpet



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Femininity, Girlhood, Growing Up, Hair, Haircuts, Implications, Mother-Daughter Relationship, One Shot, Other, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9095725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impudent_strumpet/pseuds/impudent_strumpet
Summary: If it's in your way, then cut it off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A very random, indulgent YanSim one shot XD
> 
> I do not own Info-chan or Yandere Simulator. They are owned by YandereDev. I also do not own any other characters mentioned ;)

The girl sighed as she raked her fingers through her hair in frustration. She was fourteen years old now, and was having a harder time with it than ever.  
  
"Is something wrong with your hair?" her mother asked her.  
  
"It's just so annoying." The girl sighed.  
  
"But it's so beautiful," her mother protested. The girl's hair was long, thick, and sleek, a fiery cascade of red that shone in the setting sun and splashed vibrantly against her white nightclothes and pale Japanese skin, the same hue as her piercing crimson irises.  
  
But her mother knew that with its beauty came difficulty. The girl had often suffered from it being heavy and cumbersome when she wore it loose, but tangling when she tied it back, and it being a nightmare to wash and comb. Still, it really was so lovely that her mother strongly discouraged her, time after time, from cutting it.  
  
That wasn't just about her hair, though. It was about her. As the girl grew up, her femininity, as basic as it was, seemed to be fading more and more. It was a simple thing, but her mother truly hoped that her daughter would hold onto it, not just see it as burdensome and worthless. The girl almost seemed to slowly be becoming more like--  
  
"Then just cut it all off," came the unmistakable voice of the girl's father. Where the hell had he even come from?!  
  
"What?!" The girl's mother snapped.  
  
He looked straight into his daughter's eyes. "If it's in your way, then cut it off."  
  
The girl's mother was silent for a beat. She couldn't place it, but...there was something very disturbing about that statement. Somehow...it just seemed...  
  
"Don't listen to him," she insisted to her daughter. "It's far too beautiful to waste."  
  
The girl frowned and gathered her hair onto one shoulder, then proceeded to plait it. Small tufts of red poked out of the plaits and the strands tangled and weaved themselves into the hairband when she tied it. She took a glance at her father over her shoulder.  
  
"I'm going to bed, I'm tired," her mother said. "Good night, you two."  
  
She kissed her daughter on the head as she passed by. "I love you."  
  
~  
  
Later, some time after her mother had fallen asleep, the girl walked to her room. She could climb into bed then...but she could stay up, too, and attend to what she was working on. Sleep usually did not come to her at night, aside from a few hours of light, dreamless rest, yet she never suffered any effects of sleep deprivation.  
  
Then...something on her nightstand, right next to her glasses, caught her eye.  
  
A cast iron pair of shears.  
  
She knew, instinctively, who had left them. She just knew.  
  
She thought of what he had said...and how, after this, to follow his words in her everyday life.  
  
She took the shears and padded over to her mirror, which shone in the moonlight. She looked at her reflection for a moment, then held her red braid in one hand and opened the shears with her other hand, positioning them just above her shoulders, the cold iron blade brushing her skin. Her rich scarlet hair, the very symbol and last remnant of any feminine delicacy she had ever possessed, that had been held onto and treasured by her mother for years, now laid between the guillotining blades.  
  
**_SNIP._**


End file.
